"She left the message I have given you," answered his mother. "Tell Bernard," she said, "that I will never, _never_ marry him!" "That message I refuse to receive!" cried Bernard. "Poor Doris was in such trouble she did not know what she was saying--I am sure she did not mean that." "I suppose you think I am telling you a lie?" began his mother hotly. Bernard did not reply, indeed he did not apparently hear her words. He hurried out into the hall, got his hat, and then returned to the room to say to his mother: "Have you no idea where Doris has gone?" "Not the least!" snapped Mrs. Cameron. "I shall find out. I shall follow her, wherever she has gone. You will not see me again till she is found!" "Bernard! You silly lad!" But he had gone. No use, Mrs. Cameron, in rushing after him into the hall, with all the arguments you can think of! No use in standing there, frowning and execrating his folly! The influence that draws him after Doris, in her poor distracted flight, is stronger than that which binds him to your warped and selfish nature. Love is spurring his footsteps onward, far, far away from you. If you wish to keep him by your side, you, too, must have some of its magic. Bernard first went on his bicycle to Doncaster, to the railway station, where, after many inquiries and much futile questioning, he ascertained that a young lady answering to the description he gave of Miss Anderson had booked for King’s Cross, London, and had set off to go there by the 7.34 train. Without hesitation he determined to follow her by the next express, which was to leave Doncaster at 11.18. It was then eight o’clock, so he had time to cycle back to Doris’s home, there to question Susan Gaunt as to what relations or friends Miss Anderson had in London besides Miss Earnshaw, for he thought that in case Doris had not gone to her, as her mother had directed in the letter he had seen, she might be with other friends. Susan was in a state of great distress and anxiety when she heard that her dear young lady had gone alone to London so late in the evening. "There will be no one to meet her when she arrives!" cried the good woman. "It will be night, and Miss Doris has never been to London before! She won’t know what to do. There won’t be any one to take care of her. Oh, dear! Oh, dear! what will she do?" "Well, I’m going after her," said Bernard, "as fast as I can. And I intend to go straight to Miss Earnshaw’s in Earl’s Court Square. She will go there, I suppose?" And he looked searchingly into the old servant’s face. "Yes, sir. She will go there, for her mother told her to do so." "But, in case she is not there when I arrive?" said the young man tentatively, "have you any idea of any other friends in London to whom she may go?"